


The First Door

by runsinthefamily



Series: Purgatory [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <img/><p>http://www.flickr.com/photos/dogmundsson/</p>
    </blockquote>





	The First Door

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.flickr.com/photos/dogmundsson/

“That’s the door?” Dean asks. His breath steams out in the air, though as usual he feels neither hot nor cold, regardless of surroundings. In the distance, across a deep rift in the ground, a charcoal tower of smoke rises against the purple sky. Lightning stabs inside it, a constant strobe of spiderwebbing light. 

“So it seems,” says Cas.

“That fucker lied to us,” Dean mutters. 

“He did not,” says Cas.

“He said we could get out this way!”

“We forgot to specify that we wished to survive the trip,” says Cas. 

“Yeah, well.” Dean rolls his shoulders, grits his teeth. It has to be said. “You might.”

“It doesn’t matter,” says Cas. “I won’t go without you.”

“If you get to the other side, you can - it’s easier from out there, remember? You can do that spell again, the one you used to supersize yourself, and -“

“No,” says Cas, and turns his back on the portal. “We will find another way.”

“Cas, dammit. Stop.” He catches Cas’ arm, turns him. “Listen, we have to think rationally.”

“I am,” says Cas. “I will not leave you here. There is the possibility of time slippage, and you cannot survive more than a day without me.”

“But if you do the ritual right away -“

“I have chosen this duty,” says Cas. “I will not abandon you.” 

That one hurts. “Duty?” asks Dean. He smiles and it feels tight on his face. “We might be in purgatory, but I’m not your fucking penance, Cas.”

“That is not what I meant.” Cas pins him with that angel-blue stare but Dean gotten pretty used to it over the years, even the high-octane version he’s getting now.

“What did you mean, then? Because I don’t need a nanny. I don’t know if you noticed, but it isn’t me those things keep sniffing after.”

“If I keep my Grace tamped down -“

“Yeah, how’s that working out?” Dean jerks his chin at the shadows gathering around Cas’s shoulders. “Having some problems, I think.”

“Why is it such a burden that I wish to look out for you?” Cas snaps. “We are stronger together than apart, and I owe -“

“I don’t wanna be a debt you’re paying, man!” Dean says.

“You never listen to what I am saying,” Cas says. He reaches out and grabs a fistful of Dean’s shirt. “I will _not_ leave you.” His wingshadows grow brighter. “I don’t _want_ to leave you. And if it is a choice between freedom without you or eternity in Purgatory by your side, then I have already _chosen_.”

Light flares behind him, white and blinding as the sun. The electric smell of ozone is in Dean’s nostrils, every hair on his body stands straight out. A great buffet of wind blows his hair back, whips Cas’ trenchcoat about both their legs and through the watering of his eyes he sees them. Fire and lightning and crystalline feathers spread wide, refracting glory.

They vanish and Dean is left blinking in the sudden darkness.

“No, no, Dean.” It is Cas, holding him upright with an ungentle grip on his shoulders. “Dean, Dean, are you alright? Dean?” A thumb at one of his eyelids, rolling it back. “I’m sorry, I - Dean. Dean!”

“Ok, alright,” he manages, pushing at the hand on his face. “Jeez, back off. ‘M fine.” Vision is returning, though he sees spots swimming everywhere.

Cas draws a huge, shuddering breath. “I am sorry,” he says again. “My control is not - I should not have gotten so agitated.”

“Dude,” says Dean, suddenly, awed. “Those were your wings.”

“Yes,” says Cas. He eases Dean down to sit on the ground. Snow crunches beneath them. 

“And my eyes didn’t boil.”

“They did not,” Cas agrees.

“What - why not? I mean, not complaining, just … “

“I don’t know,” says Cas.

“Well, next time I’m wearing sunglasses,” says Dean, blinking hard. The spots are fading, slowly.

A familiar howl drifts across the stony, frozen plain.

“Can’t convince you to go, can I?” Dean asks conversationally, looking at the portal.

“No,” says Cas. “You can’t.”


End file.
